Posted by: Ron DuBour | August 13, 2017

Imago Mortis~by Charley Lyman


 

 

Imago Mortis

IMG_2606

photo by Charley

Two years I served
as Death’s shadow, visiting
the homes of the newly deceased.
Three steps behind the Reaper;
Four steps ahead of the Mortician.

Over some of the houses winged
cauldrons of black birds, heavy-hearted
creatures spreading night’s drear scent.
Three steps behind the Reaper;
Four steps ahead of the Mortician.

Over other homes I watched
as white doves descended clutching
olive branches in rose beaks, cooing
the smoky spirit skyward.
Three steps behind the Reaper;
Four steps ahead of the Mortician.

Several times I arrived
as the scythe and hourglass
brought the rattle, the final exhale, the end.

Oh, I was there!

For the one who, much too young,
too ill-omened – who had overcome
her bad choices and addiction.

She was infected by the violence
of her pusher, her former pimp;
infected irrevocably….

She ascended in a chariot,
lifted from suffering by seraphim.

I was there before Death.

I watched him shed tears,
turn away as he harvested.

 

Step-by-step I was with Death.

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